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Sunday, June 30, 2013

This is the third time BELLA SIGNORINA has been released, and I'm hoping the last time as it finds a home at Eirelander Publishing in both eBook and Audio. This is the first time, though, that my original manuscript is what you will read. Edited, polished, and breathlessly romantic! Set in the Eternal City of Rome, Italy - the night just got a little bit steamier when two people finally give in to their attraction for each other and take a leap that might change their lives forever.... A best-seller for six months when it was released a few years ago, this version is a little sexier, a little hotter, and whole lot more sensual -- take a look and fall in love....

Saturday, June 29, 2013

John Quinlan on air interview by radio host Richie
with Marla & Leanna on Renegade Talk FM of Maui, Hawaii on Renegade Nation.
This radio segment contains a level of mature/adult talk similar to Howard Stern
XM Satellite Radio.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

To celebrate the 2nd Anniversary of Naughty Nights Press, I thought I'd share the opening of my nest novella with you - it's a brand new suspense/thriller with a very sexy edge!

As the rings went through, Francesco Donati
smiled, his mind preoccupied with what still lay ahead of him before he could
leave the office. His team had come through another tough assignment, and
they’d asked him to join them for drinks. Much as he would have preferred to go
directly home, the tenuous bond that was slowly being forged with Carl, Daniel,
Claire and Alexa was important, and it deserved his time and attention as much
as his personal life presently did. The rings stopped when the receiver was
picked up in his apartment.

“Hi, I wasn’t sure you’d be there.”

He smiled when Maree Casinni murmured his
name, her voice husky with sleep. The flight into New York
from South America had been a long one, and
she was obviously still jet-lagged.

“Come stai, caro?”

“Hard day,” Francesco assured her.

“Mmmmm...” The sheets rustled, and Donati
could practically feel her stretching. “How much longer will you be?”

“About an hour.”

She groaned slightly.

“I may have to make a short stop on the way,”
he added, his smile still in place.

“Franc,” she said quietly, her voice an
appealing mix of interest and frustration.

“Half hour, no more, tesoro,” he promised.

“Ti amo, Francesco Donati,” Maree told him
in a seductive whisper.

“Yeah, me too,” he answered instantly.

“It’s been too long,” she said, voice
quiet, thoughtful.

“I know,” he agreed.

“I miss you, Franc,” Maree decreed, the
longing unmistakable.

“I miss you, too,” he told her.

“Hurry home,” she ordered with a throaty laugh,
then the line went dead.

Donati’s smile deepened with pleasure and
he replaced the receiver in its cradle, then reached out to drag his computer’s
keyboard closer.

* * *

“You don’t really have to leave already?” Carl
asked when he saw Donati reaching behind him to drag his leather coat off the
back of the chair he’d been occupying for less than an hour.

Francesco smiled, his amusement genuine
when faced with the varying degrees of suspicion in the four pairs of eyes now
waiting for his answer.

“I’ve already been longer than I meant to
be,” he said quietly. “Listen, I appreciate you including me in this, but I
really do have to go.”

“Who is she?” Alexa asked, her large blue
eyes sparkling with teasing and real curiosity about his answer.

“She?” Carl interjected. “Are we only now
learning about a Signora Donati?” he wondered with a broad grin. The truth was,
they didn’t know if Donati was married, involved, or really the loner he
appeared to be. For all they knew, the man could be gay.

“No,” Francesco replied, not telling them
anything. They actually did know Maree, but it had been nearly six months since
they’d worked with her.

“No what?” Daniel asked, turning his
attention back to the conversation after paying for a round of drinks. “Hey, I
just paid for this,” he added, indicating the five drinks that had just
replaced empty glasses on the table. “You can’t leave now.”

Francesco looked from face to face, saw the
same appeal in all of them, and he relented. He sat down and picked up his glass,
silently toasting the team.

* * *

Donati stared carefully at the security
panel inside his front door and punched in his personal code after only a
slight hesitation. He glanced at the heavy silver watch on his right wrist and
winced at the lateness of the hour. He’d promised Maree he’d be home about four
hours earlier than it was now. He glanced around his apartment, still lit by a
single lamp left burning in the living room. Her coat was draped over the back
of a dining room chair, and he saw her keys on the table. The rooms were quiet,
but oddly comforting in their present tranquility. He could feel her presence
in his home, and it felt good.

Francesco hung up his coat and headed
straight through to the large bedroom at the rear of the spacious flat. He
stood in the doorway for several moments, simply watching her sleep. The bed
linen was only pulled partway up, and the air conditioning unit was whirring
away, making the place a few degrees cooler than he liked it. She’d always
preferred the cold to heat, though, and he made no adjustment to the
temperature. Moving with customary silence and grace, he crossed to the bathroom
and went in.

When he returned a short while later, she
was no longer in the bed. He heard the soft sounds of music drifting from the
living room and headed toward it. Italian opera Arias, she adored them,
especially the weepy romantic ones… When he reached the room, he leaned on the
doorframe and his entire mood was one of satisfaction and pleasure. She was
lighting candles, her nightgown was silk and lace panels left no room for
speculation that there was anything under the gown… She was curvaceous and
sexy, every motion fluid and graceful.

The mane of golden-highlighted red hair
that fell is massive waves to her waist was one of the sexiest things about her.
She hadn’t done more than brush it and let it tumble in disarray around her
shoulders and down her back.

“Feel like dinner?” She handed him a
steaming mug of coffee, then went back to the counter to continue setting the
table.

“Not really, did you cook?”

She laughed. “Not tonight. I knew you’d be
late.” She grinned and walked over to him, the heeled slippers making the sway
of her hips even more evocative. She put her arms around his neck and pulled
him down to meet her kiss. It was endless, passion and love, mingled with
discovery and need. She knew she tasted like the sparkling wine she’d been
sipping, he tasted like his last beer.

“You and I are like explosives, Francesco,”
she murmured against his mouth, when they finally eased back on the kiss but
didn’t lose their contact.

The sense of danger was returning rapidly. Maree
knew he was waiting to see if she’d be brave enough to continue being honest
with him, despite her fears. They’d left a lot of things unsaid before she’d
gone to her last assignment. She slipped from his arms and walked to the window
that overlooked the street where she’d almost run away from him earlier, though
he hadn’t known it, of course. She was suddenly thinking that it might have been
better had she kept going....

Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win a gift basket that includes two books, handmade earrings from Singapore, and a lovely book thong/bookmark! Visit all the other blogs participating and have fun!

Monday, June 24, 2013

I first met Sable Grey a number of years ago when she asked me to be the featured author in the debut issue of a new magazine she was preparing. It was the beginning of my admiration for this wonderful lady's talent and charm. Sable is not only a gifted artist, she's an author, and a business owner - and very successful at all these jobs. I just bought her newest release, and she very graciously agreed to be my guest today, and tell you all a little bit more about herself, and her terrific new book! So, let me introduce you to the lovely Sable Grey:

BIO:

Sable Grey
resides in the deep south close to family and has been writing her entire life.
She currently has thirty five titles through multiple publishers. When she’s
not writing, working at Cobblestone, or designing cover art, she is playing with
her two dogs, Doc and Sam, or three cats, Miss Kitty, Zed, and Amber. Sable
believes in writing erotic books that touch the reader’s mind, heart, and
soul.

Where do you call home and what do you love most about that place?I live in Clinton, MS. It’s where I went to school and last year when my husband and I divorced I was determined to remain in the same neighborhood so I moved about three blocks away. (We are still friends so no weirdness.) My favorite part of Clinton is the Olde Towne community. You can find out more about the area here:http://www.clintonms.org/city/main-street/olde-towne-markets.phpWhat or who inspired you to write your first title?I’ve written my whole life. I wrote my very first complete story as a child when my mother, in an attempt to get me out of her hair, told me to write a story about a duck, a rock, and a fork. It actually wasn’t bad. My first publication was The Pirate’s Jewel I don’t really know where the inspiration came from but I do know that I always pictured my hero to look like Gabriel Byrne. LOL (http://www.lsbooks.com/the-pirates-jewel-p590.php)What books have most influenced your life?Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë, The Talisman by Stephen King and Peter Straub, The Xanth novels by Piers Anthony, and the Wind Dancer Trilogy by Iris Johansen. The Wind Dancer trilogy is what made me want to write romance.What book(s) are you reading now?I’m currently reading the New Species series by Laurann Dohner. I love those books!Can you give us an idea of what your “writing space” is like?Oh God. My office is a small space off from the living room. The walls are a collage of pics of maps and ships, with three bookcases that I’m surprised haven’t crumbled beneath the weight of my library of history books, and a chaise lounge chair in the corner. I’ve got an antique desk that I love where I do most of my writing. It’s ALWAYS a mess. I clean it up and organize everything about once a week but in seven days time it’s a mess again. I have a small Acer that I use in the bedroom sometimes as well.Can you tell us about your latest publication?Charlotte’s Brides: Charlotte is the fourth title I’ve written for the Charlotte’s Brides series. Charlotte Oberman has spent years finding other worment their happily ever after. When George Landon, a severely disgrunteled client, returns his most recent mail order bride in person, she finds herself lost in a passion she never expected to have.What inspired you to write your latest publication? Where did the idea come from?I’ve always enjoyed the mail order bride historical so I thought to myself, why no write some. LOLWho is your favorite character in your latest publication and why?Oooh, I love George Landon, the hero. He’s a rancher from Texas who you think at first is just big and loud…but then he reveals his freak flag. LOL I also love Ginny.If your publication was made into a movie, what actors would you like to see playing your characters?George Landon could be played by Benjamin Walker or Liam Neeson or some other tough looking hottie but I’m not sure who I see as Charlotte.Your characters are stranded on an island. Who is most likely to be the only survivor and why?George and Charlotte are both survivors so they would definitely make it, but fight about which one saved the other.Which of your characters is most like you (if any)?While Charlotte is a smart ass like me, that’s the only similarity really between me and any of the characters.

Can you share your favorite excerpt from your recent publication?

“Excuse me, Charlotte; I know you said you wanted no interruptions, but there is a man at the desk demanding to speak with you.”Charlotte looked up from the book she was reading, gaze resting on Beth’s pretty face. “You can’t handle the situation?” She returned to her book.“No,” Beth insisted. “He will not speak with me, and he’s already sent Rebecca upstairs weeping.”“Weeping?” Charlotte sat up straight, gaze returning to Beth.“He’s bellowed at every one of us who have approached him. He says he will not leave until you speak with him. He says his name is George Landon.”The name caused Charlotte to blink. Of course she knew it. She’d already sent him three women. George Landon, a rancher in Texas. So why in hell was he standing in her lobby in Boston, Massachusetts? Setting her book aside, she stood and smoothed down the red silk of her dress.“Well, let us find out what has him so riled.” She swept forward and past Beth into the lobby. Then she stopped.A tall, wide-shouldered man of muscle leaned a thick arm on the desk. In one fisted paw he gripped a leather wide-brimmed hat. The other ran through the thick, brown hair, pushing it from his face of hard, chiseled features. Her gaze dropped to the seat of his trousers, then wound up his back. This was George Landon?When she started forward again, he half turned to slant a glance in her direction, then growled something beneath his breath before he straightened and fully turned to point a finger at her. “I don’t want to hear any more excuses. I told that other one I’m not leaving here until Charlotte Oberman gets her backside out here and hears me out.” His deep voice bound across the room, filled with irritation.Charlotte lifted her chin slightly as she continued forward, halting once she stood in front of him. She arched a brow as she placed her hands on her hips. “My backside is out here along with the rest of me; how might I assist you, Mister Landon?”His brown eyes narrowed before his gaze dipped down the length of her, then back up again. “You are Charlotte Oberman?”“What can I do for you?”He stared at her a moment longer before slapping his hat loudly to the surface of the desk. “You can give me my damned money back is what you can do for me. A bunch of duds, the lot of them.” He jerked his head toward the women that gathered at the door to peer out at him. “Three women. Three damned women and not one of them worth the heel of a boot.”Charlotte frowned. It was true that the first two she’d sent to him had been mistakes. Anna had apparently met a man on the train and married him as soon as they reached Dallas. Mary, the second, had run away to God knows where, never even making it to the station. But Charlotte had been certain that Alice wasn’t the type to run away.“Please calm yourself and tell me what has happened.” Charlotte held out her hands, palms out. She even softened her tone. “She wasn’t at the station when you went to retrieve her?”“She was there. The minute she saw me, she started crying and carrying on and hasn’t stopped since.” He leaned toward her, eyes hard. “That was a month ago, Ms. Oberman. Now, what the hell am I to do with a weeping woman? I have a ranch to run.”Charlotte stared at him. “Where is she now?”“Outside crying over a broken daisy no doubt. Now you listen to me…”“I have listened to you, Mr. Landon. I would like to see Alice now,” she interrupted.He slapped his hat to the floor and turned to stride back out the front of the building. Charlotte bent down and picked up his hat, waving to the other women to go away, but they didn’t listen.“I’ll take him,” Ginny called. “A bull like that can jump my fence any day.”

* * *

Are you working on anything new now? What can readers expect from you in the future?I’m working on more of the Charlotte’s Brides stories, a shifter series, a time travel series, and am about to start the chapter a week project on my site for the second half of the free read, Heart of the Storm. The first half of the novel is available for members of my site to read already.What advice can you give aspiring writers?Never give up and once you are published, listen to your editors. An editor’s job is to make you look good in public!

* * * Contest * * *

Leave a comment and tomorrow I will randomly select a winner. Winner gets a free copy of Charlotte.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

It’s such a simple
word, isn’t it? Yet so much of our lives and careers rest on it. Each book we
put into the hands of publishers, agents, and editors is an act of trust, and
we hope desperately that we’re not mistaken in the act. At the end of the day,
regardless of how our personal feelings are affected by the actions of others,
there is in this business a level of professionalism that truly needs to be
observed by everyone.

Like most authors,
I’ve had my dealings with less than ethical publishers who have
questionable practices. IF asked, I will
state that I have had less than enjoyable working relationships with specific
publishers. I don’t discourage anyone from dealing with people I personally
will not work with now or in future. I also don’t make it my life’s work to
publicly trash and malign these publishers. At the end of the day if I’m going
to have my titles with them until contracts expire, it doesn’t really do me any
favours to put off the buying public of said books.

Every day our lives
are affected by trusts. In our work, those of us in the arts, it’s always a
mistake to bring your business to the public – they seldom forget. Circumspection
is a needed asset, it’s vital to your survival as an artist. Always keep in
mind the shit-storm you start today will inevitably cost you professionally
tomorrow.

When a publisher signs
you, they take you on trust in many ways – just as you do them. It is a
partnership. Like any business venture, you have to work as a team. Changes
happen, new players come into the game, but ultimately, the goal remains the
same. It’s a lot like life...we create different trusts and partnerships in all
we do. I’ve had a lot of trusts broken over the past couple of years,
personally and professionally. It’s brought me to a place where I am now
seriously considering if the next move shouldn’t simply be to shutdown and end
my less than illustrious career.

Only time will tell,
but by being a professional, and maintaining my personal integrity and code of
ethics, I do the best job I can in whatever capacity I am asked to do it. I
learned a long time ago not to pay much attention to what’s said about me, and
that continues to serve me well. But trust... It’s badly shaken, I have to
admit.